Precious Stones
by My Sharpie Is Green
Summary: Tonight she felt more alone than ever, and she wished that he could see that. Sad GWHP. [ONESHOT]


I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own the quote from All Quiet on the Western Front, which I have to read for school, and which just happened to fit this story very well. (Oh, and serious kudos if you recognize the LotR reference).

We were all at once terribly alone; and alone we must see it through. –Erich Maria Remarque.

**.x. Precious Stones .x.**

Ginny sat alone in the kitchen, a cold cup of coffee sitting in front of her. It was illuminated by the faint glow of the porch light, and she stared at it disinterestedly. Her attention wasn't really on the mug or its contents, however—her entire being was focused on listening for the click of an opening door. Had she looked around, she would have seen snapshots of her life—her and Harry on their wedding day, her family, the Order, her daughter. All those faces looking at her, concerned, as she wiped away a tear and waited for her husband to come home. When he finally entered the house in the wee hours of the morning, Ginny had almost fallen asleep on the tabletop, but she snapped to alert when she heard his familiar footsteps on the tile.

"Hi," she said quietly. He looked tired, worn down—like a rock that had spent too much time in the way of the current, or butter scraped over too much bread. At the sight of the bags under his once-exuberant eyes like precious stones, she decided she didn't have the heart to ask him after all.

"What time did Annie go to bed?" he asked her, not quite looking at her. Normally, this wouldn't have fazed Ginny, but tonight… Tonight she felt more alone than ever, and she wished that he could see that.

"She fell asleep on the couch around eight," she told him, her voice masking her disappointment as only someone with experience in the matter could. This was how it was every night, and she knew that wouldn't change.

"How was she today?"

"She was fine." Ginny paused for a moment. "She missed you…we both did."

For once, he looked in her direction. "I was busy."

"I haven't seen you at all today. You left before the crack of dawn this morning."

"Come on, Gin, don't do this. You know how it can be at the Ministry." She smiled faintly at him, and he grinned back, convinced that her worries had been assuaged. "I'm going up to bed, are you going to join me?"

"In a minute," she whispered. He nodded and left the room. Her weary eyes fell on a picture of the three of them, her little family, smiling and looking at each other back when things were good—back when Harry was around. She shut her eyes for a moment, willing the tears to return to where they had come from, and walked up the stairs. She would feel better in the morning, she always did. She entered the room and sat down on the edge of her bed where Harry was already lying down.

"Goodnight, Gin," he said quietly.

"Harry?" she asked nervously. "Can I…can I ask you something?"

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her inquisitively. "Can't it wait until tomorrow morning? It's late."

"I…I know it's late, but I just need to ask you."

"Alright. Ask me."

"Well, earlier this evening Annie was helping me make her macaroni and cheese, and you came up in the conversation." Ginny paused, almost afraid to continue.

"I came up in the conversation _and_…?"

"And Annie asked me why you were never around, not even at night, and I didn't know how to answer. I didn't know what to tell her."

"Gin—"

"What is it, Harry? I know you work, but not so long and so often. Why are you always away? Is it because of friends? Or…" Ginny wrung her hands together. "Or is it because of me?" She turned around to face him, and for the longest time he didn't say a word. Ginny swallowed and looked away. She had known it, too. She had been a damned fool to think that he would say anything differently. "I…it's alright. I understand," she said quietly, and she got out of bed and crept down the hall, gently pushing open the door to her little girl's room. She was surprised to see a pair of bright green eyes framed by flame-red hair staring up at her.

"I didn't think you'd be awake," she said.

"I can't go back to sleep," she said sleepily. Ginny thought that she couldn't have been awake for long.

"Do you want me to read you a story?" Ginny asked, coming closer. Annie nodded and reached over, putting her small hand on a fairy tale. Ginny smiled and lifted the book, curling up with Annie on the bed and reading aloud, trying to calm herself as well as her daughter. Annie fell asleep near the middle, but Ginny kept reading all the way to "…and they lived happily ever after," because she needed to believe that they would.

**A/N: **So, what'd you think? My friend said that Harry seemed 'bitter' and was 'acting like a prick', but I just think that maybe the war would have changed him so much by the end that he wouldn't be the same anymore, if he survives. I mean, I'm a Harry/Ginny shipper and all, but I think this is a more realistic view on what they would be like if they did get together after the war. Review with YOUR opinion (of Harry and the story).


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